


Two Can Play

by Void_senpai



Category: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Nikolina - Freeform, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:12:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26360176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Void_senpai/pseuds/Void_senpai
Summary: Alina discovers that her vision of The Darkling has sent Mal running for comfort elsewhere.But two can play at that game.
Relationships: Nikolai Lantsov/Alina Starkov
Comments: 3
Kudos: 80





	Two Can Play

Tamar led me across the grounds to the stables, and though she warned me, I wasn’t prepared for what I would find there. Following the roars and hooting, we proceeded carefully through the crowd that had inexplicably gathered, smelling of sweat and _kvas_. There, standing in the center of the clearing, was Mal. He was bruised and bloodied, dealing blow after blow on an Inferni who was struggling to return them. My hand clapped over my mouth as the Inferni shot flames over his head, nearly singeing Mal’s hair before being knocked to the ground by a quick sweep of his legs. It was over. The crowd split into victorious cheering from some and irritation from the losers, who were begrudgingly handing over gold pieces in defeat.

After the horror of his condition and the danger he put himself in passed, I grew rather irritated, myself. So this was where he was going at night. This is why he was dragging himself to his post in the mornings looking as if he’d been kicked by a horse. I had barely seen him in the last weeks, and could barely get a word out of him that wasn’t stiff and icy. There was no opportunity to tell him about my visions, or my madness, and it seemed as if he wasn’t interested in giving me one. From the looks of things, he was content to let this fester. I watched him sway as the adrenaline in his veins started to taper off, grinning from the many congratulatory thumps on the back. He told me how unhappy he was here. If this was making life in Os Alta tolerable for him, then maybe I should let it go. I wished we could have sorted all of this out before he started actively courting death. But then something happened that I did not expect. Perhaps I should have.

Zoya, looking radiant as ever, emerged from the throng and threw her arms around his neck, planting a deep, open-mouthed kiss on his lips. My heart dropped into my stomach, which was already churning. He hesitated, and then his hands fell to her waist, pulling her closer for more, his smile never faltering. A public display like that was one of two things: a reminder of what had already happened, or a promise for later. It could have been both. Tamar placed her hand on my shoulder, trying to tug me away.

“Come away, Alina,” she said softly. I worried that I was going to be sick. If it wasn’t for the pain and rage coursing through me, I might have. Mal had only just pulled away when our eyes locked from over a sea of heads, and suddenly he was white as a sheet. Zoya only smirked at me, arms still around her prize. It turned into a scowl when he pushed her away and came after me, fruitlessly calling my name as I stormed off into the woods.

I should have guessed he would fall into her arms the second he thought he was rid of me. I no longer cared about the pain he was in, or why, or how. Scalding tears welled up in my eyes, and I tried to fight them back. I wouldn’t let him see me cry. I wouldn’t let any of them see my heart cracking open like an egg for him. What I wanted was to punch him square in the jaw. If he followed me for much longer, I might have gotten my wish.

“Alina! Stop!”

“No!” I snapped from over my shoulder. He ran ahead and stopped in front of me, blocking my path as I tried to move around him. At such a close distance, I could smell the _kvas_ on his breath and the bare skin of his chest, as if he had bathed in it. Not that being drunk would grant him any leniency from me. There was shame etched across his face. Hurt, even. It only enraged me further. 

“Move.”

“No.” I moved to hit him, but he only grabbed my wrists, his knuckles swollen and bleeding.

“Mal, I swear to all the Saints, if you don’t let me go right this second, I will feed you to the _volcra_.” He frowned and stepped back, releasing me from his grip. His injuries were worse than they looked before, with black and purple splotches already forming on his face and torso. The swelling alone would likely last for days. However, sympathy was currently in very short supply. “So this is where you’ve been, is it? Out drinking and brawling until all hours so you can spend your shifts half-dead and hung over?”

“I’m fine.”

“Really?” I gestured to the evidence of what was likely a broken rib. 

“If I was needed somewhere else, then that’s where I would be,” he said cooly. 

“You know where you’re needed. You would simply prefer to feel sorry for yourself than try to make things better.”

“This is making things better,” he growled. I pinched the bridge of my nose. Could I get through to him, or was I wasting my breath?

“If I had my way, I’d be spending every waking minute with you, Mal. But we are at _war_. I am doing everything I can to keep this country from completely falling apart, so I’m sorry if that’s taking first priority right now.” He scoffed and shook his head.

“Don’t blame it on a couple of meetings in the war room. You don’t want me. You told me as much the other night.” I was definitely wasting my breath.

“No, I didn’t! You just stormed out without letting me explain because you’ve gotten it in your head that I’m going to throw you aside for a boy I don’t love and a man who wants us all dead, you especially. If anyone needs convincing here, it’s me.” His thick brows pressed together.

“How do you figure that?”

“Hmmm, I don’t know,” I said, my voice thickly coated in venom. “Perhaps it has something to do with you running off to go drown your sorrows in booze and Zoya’s giant tits at the very first opportunity.” He stiffened, and a flush ran up his face. 

“Alina that wasn’t--”

“--The first time? Yes, I know. You’ve got some real nerve, you know that? I got to watch you spend years gleefully tumbling every girl from here to Fjerda, and when you finally waltz into the palace, all it takes is a new _kefta_ for you to decide that I’ve tossed you aside forever. I spent years waiting for you, Mal. I spent so many nights swallowing my tears as you stuffed some girl’s tongue down your throat right in front of me, and I spent every night we were apart terrified that you were dead in a ditch somewhere. Do you have any idea what that’s like?” He looked chastened. Good. As smart as Mal was, he still was stupid enough to open his mouth again.

“None of them meant anything to me, Alina.”

“And the Darkling meant nothing to me,” I retorted, sounding especially catty. His mouth snapped shut, his eyes blazing with groundless anger. “You’re a filthy hypocrite, and I don’t believe you for a second. I saw her face after she kissed you. If you were trying to hurt me or make me jealous, then congratulations. You did it. But two can play at this game, Mal.” There was a sinister edge to my threat that made him freeze in place and his eyes widened. No, it wasn’t a threat anymore. It was a promise.

“What do you mean?”

“None of your business,” I replied flippantly, finally pushing past him to march away. 

“Alina, wait!” he called, but I didn’t answer him. I continued onwards to the palace, my nails digging into the flesh of my palm. This was not the time for tears. There was no way that I was going to retreat to my bed and allow myself to melt into nothing like snowflakes in my hair. A fire was surging in my veins that was not unlike the flow of my power. And like my power, I wanted to seize it, channel it, bend it to my will instead of letting it rule me. Mal was likely just another notch in Zoya’s bedpost, or even merely a means of revenge for besting her. It didn’t matter. I was going to carve my own bedpost.

I knocked on the door, trying to ignore the guard eyeing me from his post, and waited. Why was I feeling so self-conscious all of a sudden? Zoya certainly wasn’t. She’d shout her conquests from the mountaintops if the mood struck her, not that she needed to. The few lucky souls she shared a bed with treated it as one would expect of a peasant who had witnessed a miracle.

“Come in!” the voice called from within. There was a weary edge to it that made me second guess my decision to come there.

Nikolai was reclining on the sofa by a dying fire, a book in one hand and a cup in the other. He wore only a pair of dark blue breeches and a white shirt that was missing two buttons at the top, his brow furrowed in concentration at the page from behind his tousled hair. It was odd to see him like this, so soft and disheveled instead of pressed and polished. It was moments such as this that I remembered that he was just a boy, another troubled youth among the others trying to cobble together a victory from this nightmare.

“Sorry, I hope I’m not disturbing you.” He looked up from his book, and once he recognized his caller, snapped the book shut and righted himself.

“Never. To what do I owe the pleasure?” I could hardly think of my arrival being a pleasure to anyone at the moment. Nevertheless, I was going to try to look agreeable. I offered a faint smile that I hoped didn’t look as humiliated as I felt

“I’ve had an awful night, and I was looking for some wine and good company.” He grinned.

“Then you’ve come to the right place. Come. Sit.” He gestured to the space beside him on the sofa. “Though I feel a little insulted. I am _excellent_ company.” I sank into soft plush and gratefully accepted a cup of red vintage. Dark, sweet, and dry on my tongue. He regarded me carefully as I took a long drink.

“Do I dare ask who has angered my Sun Summoner?”

“The list grows longer everyday.”

“I could have them beheaded. Better that I finally put my position to good use.”

“Too impersonal.” The warmth of the wine was beginning to ease the tension in my shoulders. “And too quick.” 

He laughed. Full of mirth as always, even in my more sullen state. Though his mouth sometimes made me want to poison him, his smile and his laughter were a much-needed breath of sunshine. The degree of sincerity wasn’t always clear. I thought I was learning how to tell if he laughed for his own pleasure or only for someone else’s, but the line was becoming blurred. Maybe he wasn’t always sure himself.

“Remind me to stay on your good side.” 

“You usually are,” I replied with a wry smile. “However, you’ve tempted me before.” He raised an eyebrow in amusement.

“‘Tempted,’ you say?”

“On several occasions. Though if I killed you, I think I would miss you. That, and I’ve already had more than my share of captivity. I don’t think life in the dungeons would suit me.”

“So it’s more a matter of self-preservation than liking me.”

“Why can’t it be both?”

He studied me from over his cup as I sipped on mine. He was obviously curious, given that I wasn’t normally one for shameless flirting. But I enjoyed it far more than I expected, especially the little flutter in my chest when he flirted back. It was a drastic improvement on the cruel aching that it replaced. I felt myself blush, and looked away to smooth the folds of my _kefta_.

“I’m glad you came,” he said, laying back against the pile of cushions. His previous cockiness had seemingly simmered down. Rather than look at me, he merely stared into the flames and swirled the dregs around in his cup. “I look forward to this little bit of peace and solitude all day, and every time I’m reminded how much I hate being alone.” I sighed.

“I know what you mean. Escaping your responsibilities for a moment rather than escaping other people. Being alone with my thoughts is usually worse.”

“Which is why my wine cellar is always full, my library is well stocked, and only the most beautiful and interesting people are kept in my orbit.”

“But where are you going to find someone like that at this hour?” He rolled his eyes.

“Modesty is so unbecoming in a Saint, Alina. Now accept my compliment before I decide to embarrass you further.” I dropped my gaze to the inside of my cup and took another sip. The only thing more embarrassing was just how transparent I must have been. If he’d said that to any other grisha girl here, they would have simply agreed with him. Flawlessly beautiful and well aware of it. That was the power I envied the most.

“Not all of us are as sure of ourselves as you are,” I replied. “I think you’re the only one who could get away with loudly extolling your own virtues so regularly. That would be a surefire way to send the remaining grisha running back to The Darkling.”

“Which is why I will do it for you.” His face listed towards me, his mouth curled into a playful half-smile.

“Only the peasants would be inclined to believe you, and that’s only because they think I’m a Saint.”

“The others will see it on their own soon enough. The reminders are for you.”

Why couldn’t it be like this? Why did I spend my days dogged by war and strategy and subterfuge, reminders of my failures as the Sun Summoner, only to spend my nights hearing detailed descriptions of my personal failures? Here I was, giving everything I had trying to save us all from drowning in darkness, and yet even the one I trusted the most was kicking and flailing enough to drag us both down to the depths. He didn’t understand. He couldn’t. Mal had never played any other part than a soldier. But Nikolai did, probably better than anyone there. He knew what the job entailed, and if his kind reassurances were any indication, he was not about to fault me for struggling.

“And why should I believe a pirate?” He opened his mouth in protest, but I raised my hand to silence him. “Yes, yes, I know. _Privateer._ My point being that I can hardly be expected to believe you as much as you’ve lied to me before.”

“Only to keep us alive,” he conceded, nonchalant as ever. “And it isn’t as if you’ve been singled out for it. I lie to myself all the time.”

“That must be horribly confusing.” He chuckled.

“Oh, I’m becoming more confused by the day. If I weren’t already so brilliant, I would be entirely useless.” I let out a humorless laugh.

“Hardly. Sankta Alina just appears in public to smile and wave on occasion, and I’m not even good at that.”

“It takes more practice than most people realize. And besides, you’re good at many other things.” One eyebrow quirked up with bemusement, and I set my cup aside, staring expectantly.

“Such as?”

“You’re charming company, as we’ve already established. Beautiful. Quite funny. You’re good at strategizing, kicking, arguing, blinding people--”

I cut him off with a kiss.

It took only a second for his brain to catch up with me before I could feel him carefully moving his mouth with mine, almost unsure, which confused me. How many girls had he been with before me without any thought at all? And Mal? And all the other boys I knew? I silently prayed that he would keep going, because it felt fantastic. Then he pulled away with a ragged breath.

“And that,” he whispered.

His lips ghosted mine, and I could taste his quickened breath on my tongue. I was held in place by a frustrating kind of magnetism that pulled us together but forced me a hair’s breadth apart. I didn’t want to be. Something else was preventing me from melting into him.

“This is a terrible idea,” he said in a low murmur.

“Nonsense. I know what I’m doing.” I could almost feel his lips curl into a smirk, and a deep chuckle rumbled in his chest.

“Oh no, I’m not worried for you. I’m a very attentive lover, you know. Yet another one of my many, many positive attributes.”

“Well I won’t be taking your word for it.”

“I think you’ll find that I’m better than my word.” 

I shivered. The dark tone of his promise was exactly what I wanted to hear. He gripped the back of the sofa to steady himself as my hands pulled on the sides of his shirt, letting my lips crash into his. Somewhere after “Come in,” I’d forgotten the reason I was there. My blood was up when I arrived, but a little wine with Nikolai and I was ready to sigh into his mouth instead of scream. Stay on task.

Being the pursuer instead of the pursued for once was exhilarating, a shot in the arm after so much time spent waiting around to be kissed. Now, I was going to simply reach out and take what I wanted, everything else be damned. There was a brief moment of hesitation before his hand snaked around my waist, hugging me close to his chest while the other rose to cup my face. Our lips moved in a steady rhythm, almost painfully so. The hot need twisting in my stomach was making me impatient, though I couldn’t deny that everything else was, too. Teeth clacking together over probing tongues over swollen lips. Hands seeking purchase in hips and the seams of clothing and the curve of my back. 

So this is what it was like. Frenzied and blind, trying to claw something unseen and unknown out of each other’s skin. This was nothing like those clumsy, juvenile encounters against a tree on those tipsy nights in the Ravkan countryside, Mal’s booming laughter only a handful feet away. Hell, I’d barely gotten this much out of Mal since our search for the stag. I wondered if that meant something more.

No, I wasn’t going to think about him. Regardless of my reasons for kissing Nikolai, it was already agreed that we wouldn’t until I wasn’t trying to forget someone else. Perhaps that was too much to ask right now. There wasn’t much time to linger on that pinprick of guilt, because the prince had begun trailing kisses up my jaw to my pulse, sending a jolt of lighting down my spine. He somehow balanced the careful restraint that one might expect from him with the urgency that I was demanding of him. A moan finally broke free after a nip at the last sliver of exposed skin before the collar of my _kefta_. This must have been amusing to him, the low sound humming into my throat. I hoped my lewd noises didn’t out me as the amateur that I was.

The remaining distance between us was maddening. In a moment of boldness that I could add to my list of firsts that evening, I climbed onto his lap and straddled his hips. Even half-lidded, his eyes widened in surprise, which was quickly replaced with a grin. That was much better, but I needed more. More of his skin. More of mine. My thighs were already squeezing against his from the growing heat between them. Greedy hands traveled under the hem of his shirt and tugged it over his head. Another kiss, harder and needier than before, tongues mingling wildly, until my fingers wound their way through his hair and pulled his head back. He hissed. Oops. Perhaps that was too rough. But oh Saints, was it a wonderful sound. I needed to hear that again.

Between heavy breaths, my lips climbed up his exposed throat, desperate to find the right spot to latch onto. When his breath suddenly hitched, I knew I’d found it. It was just below his ear where I began lapping and sucking on the smooth flesh that tasted of sweat. Should I be gentler, or should I leave him a token of my visit? A gasp and the fingers digging into the silk around my waist made that decision for me. His hands found the clasps of my _kefta_ and nearly tore it open before letting it all slide down my back and pool around my hips. He took me in for a moment, his eyes traveling hungrily over my collarbone, my chest, and down to my stomach. The solid length of him, which had been pressing almost painfully against me since I crawled on top of him, gave an involuntary twitch, and I felt a self-satisfied smirk rise on my face.

“No need to look so smug,” he said. He was flushed and clearly trying to steady his uneven breathing. “It’s unsportsmanlike.” I slid my arms around his neck, pressing my breasts into him, and his breath hitched.

“How so?”

“Because you know exactly what you’re doing to me,” he murmured. Now I did. Though I’d become more assertive, my awareness of my own inexperience had still haunted my touch. I wanted to be good at this, because he certainly was. He shifted under me, feebly trying to rearrange himself in pants that had become much too tight. “Perhaps a change of venue is in order.” I hummed in agreement.

I was suddenly lifted up and onto my feet, and it took a moment to realize that I was now standing in front of Nikolai completely naked. Notions of feminine modesty were largely foreign to me, but the way his gaze hovered over me made me feel even more exposed. As he stood, he placed a kiss on my sternum, the hollow of my throat, and finally back to my lips before guiding me over to the ornate feather bed. Falling backwards on the bed, I was in a much better position to admire his carved torso and thick shoulders.

“See something you like?”

“Shut up.” I felt my cheeks turning red, and he laughed. How ridiculous was it to be embarrassed by that when I was already laying naked on his sheets? But then he hesitated ever so slightly, his expression reading like someone trying to do sums in their head. My heart skipped a beat as I wondered if he was having second thoughts, or if I did something wrong.

“Nikolai?” Whatever it was, he quickly snapped out of it. A devious smile bloomed on his face before he landed next to me.

“Ah, that’s much better,” he said pleasantly. “Now, where was I? Oh, right.” And then he took my nipple in his mouth, and a strangled moan came tumbling out. Any reservations I might have had about making noise were gone, replaced with thoughts of his calloused hand winding further and further down my body until it arrived at the spot that was begging the loudest for attention. Two fingers dragged along my core, which was already dripping onto my thigh, and with one last agonizing swirl of his tongue, he pulled his mouth away.

“Wow.” It came out as a breathless laugh, something like relief. Another swipe and my back was arching towards him. Another. His tongue found my breasts again. And another. Slow circles with slick fingers that sent electric shocks pulsing through me. Something was winding up, tightening more and more by the second, all the while I lay beside him, writhing and mewling like a kitten. Desperation was taking me. The hands that were once caressing his shoulders were now digging into them, clinging to something solid, until a hard tug on my nipple finally pushed me over the edge. Even though I was still gasping for air, I had to kiss him again. I was also going to have to admit that he was right. He was going to be insufferable after this.

After this. I didn’t want to think about that either. I was still trembling from my peak, but my interests were still decidedly singular. The tentpole in his trousers was stabbing my thigh, leaving behind a trail of wetness that was not my own. Hand shaking, I reached down, palming it, gently squeezing. It could have been made of iron, thick and unyielding. He hissed, bucking into my hand.

“You’re awfully greedy,” he murmured into my neck.

No. Yes. Maybe. I ignored him and turned my focus towards unbuttoning them. Or struggled to, if I was being honest. He graciously assisted and shucked off the last layer of clothing between us. Somehow, it only then occurred to me where this was headed. It was what I came for, after all. But a small twinge of uncertainty in my stomach convinced me to delay the inevitable. I’d never done this before, or any of it for that matter, but something about his observation made me want to refute it.

With one more kiss, I nudged him onto his back and crawled down on all fours to settle between his knees. It looked red, almost bruised, and so rigid that I wondered if it was painful. He rose up on his elbows, watching me curiously.

“Alina?” And then I lowered my head and took him into my mouth. His arms gave out under him, and he fell back with a tortured moan that surely carried enough to reach the guards. The sound was too intoxicating for me to care. With that encouragement, I set to work, bobbing, sucking, sliding my tongue from the base to the tip, all to drag those sounds out of him again. And it was working. Labored breathing accompanied groans and grunts. The gentle strokes on the top of my head had turned to a tense grip on the roots of my hair. When I looked up at him, his eyes were squeezed shut, his lower lip firmly wedged between his pearly-white teeth. This must have been what Zoya felt like all the time.

“Alina,” he moaned, his fingers twisting in my hair. “Wait.” 

“Hmmm?” The sound of my name startled me. It twitched in my mouth, and I let go.

“I won’t last very long at this rate,” he panted. He craned his neck up to look at me and then frowned. “You’re doing it again.”

“Hush,” I said, trying to stifle a grin. Pleased and a little proud that I’d done something right. “I promise I won’t tell anyone that I brought the great Sturmhond to heel.”

“I do have a reputation to think about.” He beckoned me to rejoin him and promptly began kissing me again, my face cradled in his hands. I loved the hot press of his skin on mine, the way we seemed to melt into each other like candle wax. This was what I really came for. To feel wanted, to feel desired, but as myself. To exist for even a few moments where nothing was wanted from me. To not be someone’s savior, or their leader, their superior, or a stone around their neck. A night be a normal girl again before the world imploded on itself.

The need was building up inside me again. I didn’t know what he was waiting for, unless perhaps he didn’t want to. The risk of rejection might have stayed my hand on another night, but the humiliation of one rejection had already thickened my skin to more of it. I sat up on his hips, feeling his arousal against my backside, needing release just as much as I did. Release from this night, from his war, from the wildfire raging inside me that I couldn’t quench on my own. He seemed to understand my intentions, grabbing onto my hips to steady me as I slowly began to sink down onto him, inch by torturous inch.

The feeling of his generous girth filling me up had made my mind go completely blank. It was a gradual process, but I was more than prepared. He’d seen to that. And he was more than welcome to be there. I didn’t hear the noise that sprang from my mouth as I was finally filled to the hilt, but it was enough to stop him.

“Are you alright?” I nodded, pressing my lips together.

“Mhmm.” My voice was shaky, trying not to moan through my response. “I’m _very_ alright.” 

I was met with the wolfish smile of a boy very pleased with himself. As he should have been, but the flames of his ego didn’t need further fanning. A roll of my hips cut it short. A wave of pleasure shot through me, spurring me to do it again. More. There was no such thing as too much, even as he began bucking upwards, going deeper inside me than before. His hands returned to my breasts, my stomach, the sensitive spot he found before, and that’s when it all reached a fever pitch. Soft moaning turned as frantic as our fingertips, each searching for something to tether us to the earth until I was completely overcome by the sensation. Stars burst in my eyes. My broken cry might have woken up the rest of the palace, but I was too busy reeling from the intensity of my climax to care.

Nikolai was right behind me. Eyes squeezed shut, his nails digging into my hip bones, his breath wound so tightly that I thought he might burst. And he did. With one last strangled growl, he lifted me off and spilled onto his stomach. We laid beside each other, gasping for air as if we’d just run a race, coated in a glittering sheen of sweat just barely visible in the light of the oil lamps. Exhilarating. My entire body pulsed with power and pleasure and fatigue. Was it strange to feel...excited? About what I wasn’t sure. I watched idly as he cleaned up.

“Well, that was quite the surprise,” he chuckled breathlessly.

“Which part?

“All of it.” His reply made me squirm a little.

“Not a bad one, I hope.”

“Certainly not. However, you’ll have to forgive me if I’m a little less lively than usual in the meeting tomorrow morning.”

“Oops, I didn’t mean to keep you up late.” He looked over and then pulled the sheets over us. A draft had already cooled my skin against the heatwave brought on by our interactions, and goosebumps were sprouting on my skin.

“Nonsense,” he said. “You’re always welcome, Alina.” There was a split moment where I could see the words turn over in his head, and he snorted. “I’m sorry, I meant you’re always welcome to come see me--not in my bed--though you’re welcome there, too. If you want to, that is.” I couldn’t remember ever hearing a word from Nikolai that wasn’t smooth as butter. It was striking, like his bright hazel eyes, which were trained on me from only inches away.

“You’re sweet,” I said, brushing a gilded lock of hair from his face. Even in the dim light, I could have sworn I saw him blush. My heart gave a traitorous thump, which I found disconcerting. I rose, my tired muscles still buzzing, and swung my legs over the side of the bed.

“Alina.” My name came so softly on his lips, so quietly that I almost didn’t notice the barest hint of sadness in his voice. When I looked over my shoulder, I saw not the arrogant prince that made me laugh, but a deeply exhausted boy tangled in his sheets, reaching for my hand. “Stay. Please.”

The aching in my chest returned, but I didn’t know who it was for. That’s when I finally understood: There was a reason that they tumbled peasant girls in passing villages, girls who expected little of an attractive soldier sneaking out of camp. The anonymity made it easy. I should have found some army grunt who didn’t know my name and didn’t care. They were the proper targets for this revenge quest, not a prince. _The_ prince. Nikolai had saved my life more than once, as I’d saved his. He had given me nearly anything I asked for that he had the power to give. Tonight, as I heard his one request of me, was the first time I felt as if I had taken something from him.

I nodded, giving him a reassuring smile as I crept back under the blankets beside him. Drowsily, he curled me into his side, his muscled arm holding me close, and finally allowed his eyelids to fall shut as he buried his nose in my hair. But I couldn’t fall asleep so easily. My fingertips traced the lines on his chest, watching it rise and fall, his skin still golden from his years spent at sea. He was unquestionably beautiful, but that wasn’t what led me to his door tonight in lieu of many others. Mal’s brash accusations weren’t completely without merit. I had grown to care for Nikolai, first as an ally and later as a friend. I trusted him, perhaps more than I should for one I’d only known for a short time. I couldn’t say that I was worthy of his trust, or whatever he might have felt for me. But as I had long ago discovered, worthiness so rarely had to do with anything. 

I pressed an airy kiss to his temple. I could worry about all of that tomorrow. For now, I was just going to hold this kind, stupid, disheveled prince while he slept and greet him with a smile in the morning. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> If you liked it, please leave comments and kudos! I really appreciate it!


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